Pick Me Up
by The Tiramisu Of Impending Doom
Summary: [VT, Oneshot] Involves Tifa and Vincent, and one of my favorite desserts. Tifa finds herself stuck with Vincent one afternoon, and gets just what she asks for. Don't take it too seriously, folks.


Pick-Me-Up

Disclaimer: You caught me. I'm actually the one behind Final Fantasy 7. But AC, those compilations, and extra games have absolutely nothing to do with me. Ah… What B.S. I don't own anything, except for maybe the ridiculous storyline. The game belongs to Square-enix, but you people already knew that.

I'm allowed to write a long one-shot, right? Anyway, this isn't a straining mental exercise or anything serious of that nature… Just felt like playing with Vincent and Tifa and messing with the FF7 plot, like always. Hope you like it.

* * *

"Say, Vincent… You look like you could use a pick-me-up…"

He arched an eyebrow at Tifa's comment without looking up from his book. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know… a drink, or something to eat… an energy booster. I can go get you something if you want." She gestured over the bench behind her to the crowded bistro. She doubted that Mr. Valentine wanted to go anywhere near the place even if he were hungry. Certainly, too many people were there for his comfort zone A.K.A anti-social tendencies.

"No thank you," he replied softly.

"Hear they've got some really good… er… stuff," she persisted lamely. She'd never actually been to the place before, but again, it looked packed, so that was a good sign.

"I am filled with energy," he answered dully, distractedly staring at a space just above his book as he turned a page.

She smiled to herself at his response. He sure did look like a ball of enthusiasm. Not. An avid reader, at least. She narrowed her eyes on the book cover, which was partially covered by the metal digits of his left hand, to regard the gold lettering of the title.

_The Coffee of Delirium. _What the hell kind of a name for a book was that?

"I bet they have… _coffee_," Tifa added belatedly, putting emphasis on the word as though the drink were a magical thing.

"I don't like coffee," he answered quietly, and the magic just fizzled out abruptly.

Why would he read a damn book with the word 'coffee' in the title if he didn't even care for the drink anyway? Valentine was a contrary guy, no doubt about that.

With a heavy sigh, she turned sideways in the bench to rest her arm over the back, and let her head fall on her arm as her eyes slipped closed.

A few minutes passed while she rested—or at least, _pretended_ to rest. In reality, she was trying to look as bored and as helpless as humanly possible so Vincent might feel guilty enough about being so quiet and actually freaking talk to her.

As though the guy needed more guilt. Who was she kidding?

There was a light breeze and people talking in the area, making noises that she ignored, but of course, the only thing she could pay attention to at the moment was the crisp sound of Vincent turning pages.

He'd probably finish the thing in a minute anyway, at which point he'd set the book aside and just stare at the ground for awhile, and wait until the others returned from their little outings. Cid and Barret had stopped at the bar. Yuffie had dragged poor Nanaki on a walk to cause mischief…

And Aeris had taken Cloud on a romantic outing to… wherever those two went. Tifa didn't really want to think about it, but, okay… maybe she could well imagine just _where_. Maybe they went for some ice cream, and then Cloud would spill some on his cheek… and Aeris would reach over with her dainty little finger and brush it off, laughing softly. And then they'd check out the gift shop. Or maybe they would just slip away from town entirely and just… make out somewhere, like in the middle of a flowery meadow with butterflies and birds everywhere…

And…

_And… damn it._

She huffed again at the prospect of waiting to see the content looks on Cloud's and Aeris' faces when they decided to return.

_I should have just gone with Yuffie to check out hot guys… and left Nanaki with Mr. Bookworm over here…_

She smiled wryly to herself. _Nah, I wouldn't do that to him…_

The twisted smile fell from her lips at the return of the thought that Cloud would never choose her over Aeris. More than that, she knew that she had to stay with _this_ boring guy, when she should have just stood up and walked away so Vincent could enjoy his book without her spoiling it. But she couldn't let herself do that, because she just didn't want to be alone…

And now that she thought about it, he didn't seem to want to move either. Or at least, he tolerated her presence enough not to want to shoot her. She might as well make the most of his company instead of thinking about… crap she had no control over…

She parted her lashes to slide her curious brown-eyed gaze over to him. Then she made grotesque faces at his profile, as though he'd sharply turn his head and send her a terrifying death glare of impending… um… yeah… death. But Vincent didn't do anything like that. He just kept reading and turning pages while she amused herself by looking at him with funny faces.

At some point, her face muscles gave up in the wacky expressions department to give way to a much easier occupation—just checking out Vincent Valentine's mysterious self while she still had the chance.

Sitting immobile with his long legs stretched out in front of him, he might pass for a normal guy just enjoying the sun and his book, if he'd given up that scary outfit with the red cape, sharp boots, and bandana for some black slacks, a black long-sleeved shirt, and maybe a nice pair of traveling boots. Her eyes passed over the claw briefly. And there was _that_ too. But she often overlooked that part of him anyway…

Next, she returned her attention to his face to watch one thin, winged eyebrow lower in concentration while an intense red eye scanned the words on each page. His thick, dark eyelashes fluttered every few minutes, especially when he turned a page with an elegantly fingered hand. The man had been kind enough to stuff his brown glove into one pocket when he sat down earlier to give her a full view of that hand. However, he wasn't so considerate about his long, messy black hair. He kept the bandana securely tied around his head with his bangs hanging low before his eyes and against his pale cheeks.

…She wanted to check out his high cheekbones too, as she'd seen them before when it was really windy earlier. And now she hoped for a gust of wind to send that obstructive—even if quite pretty—hair out of his face. Or maybe _she_ should just blow into his face to send the hair away, until she got blue in the face and passed out from lack of oxygen, particularly because the sight of his awesome cheekbones would no doubt make her breathless.

She chewed on her lower lip as she watched one truant strand of ebony hair drift across his long, narrow nose. And then she frowned at the high collar of his cloak because it concealed the view of his lips, which she'd glimpsed a few times before but never really had the chance to appreciate completely…

…So… alright… maybe she'd rather check out Vincent Valentine's exotically handsome self than look for hot guys with Yuffie Kisaragi. That girl's taste in men was _way_ different anyway.

"Do you need something, Tifa?"

She blinked in surprise, and her face went aflame with a deep rose blush at his softly voiced inquiry. Hadn't he been fully engaged in his book? Oh, right, it was probably about coffee. He couldn't have been that interested in it, if that was the case.

She lifted her head from her arm, which had fallen asleep while she made a study of Valentine's face, and straightened to sit forward in the bench. But her eyes strayed to the book in his hand.

"Um… no… not really… I just… wanted to know… if…"

"…If…?" He prompted, closing the book over his hand. At his movement, she turned her head to meet his gaze head-on, a bit startled when she found him so focused on her all of a sudden.

She crinkled her forehead at her inability to think.

"If," she repeated vacantly, noting that one of his eyebrows was more arched than the other. Probably from all the times he lifted one dark wing in question at her… like now, for example.

Then, the thought she wanted finally came to her, and she stood up abruptly to put her hands on her hips. "I'm going to get us something to eat." Maybe she could catch a glimpse of his lips that way.

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, _I'm_ hungry."

"I don't need anything."

"Ummm, too bad."

"It will go to waste," he said stubbornly with a challenging glint in his eyes.

"Humor me." She gave him a fierce look, in unconscious mockery of the death glare she had expected to receive earlier.

Mistrustfully, his eyes narrowed on her face for a moment, and then he returned his gaze to his book with a little sigh and a shake of his head. "As you wish…"

"Cool."

She smiled at his downcast face and hurried off toward the bistro, pleasantly surprised when she learned upon entering that they had a bakery inside…

_Hmm… Pie…_

She weighed the possibilities. _Sandwich or salad… fatty stuff… sandwich or salad… fatty stuff…_

_Ah, what the hell, I'll make up for it with the walk when I regroup with Cloud and the rest of them, and the gods know that Valentine doesn't gain weight…_

A few minutes later, she returned to Vincent with her prize. But instead of bringing him the pie she coveted, she returned with something called Tiramisu. She'd tried it once in Nibelheim, and it tasted heavenly. She knew it could be prepared in many ways, but hers had been layered, like a cake. Some hint of espresso or mocha in something that tasted like a godly version of whipped cream, and sweet, small, finger-shaped sponge cakes called ladyfingers. She recalled the taste of Tiramisu to be light, sweet, and completely satisfying, and she probably would have eaten a piece twice the size of the one she had, but it was probably better that she hadn't.

Loath to allow such a horrible thing to occur again, she'd bought a humongous piece for herself and a miniscule piece for Valentine.

"So, here it is, Vincent."

"Hmm… I changed my mind…"

Playfully, she held out his portion and waved it beneath his nose.

"Coooome oooooon, Viiiinnnceeeeeent. Doesn't it look good?" she coaxed.

Frowning deeply at her persuasion methods, he simply leaned out of the way and turned his body so he could focus on his book.

Then she smiled sweetly. "I'll throw it in your face." _Or down your shirt…_

His hand slipped down from his book to pointedly rest on the butt of his gun.

She threw up one hand in dismissal. "Oh yeah! Shoot me over a fricking dessert, Vincent Valentine. Right here in public… Will you please just have some?"

He set the book down to his lap to regard her speculatively, while she gave him the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. She'd never tried that face on Valentine before, and she didn't know what made her think that it would work on a badass ex-Turk like him, but she might as well try.

For a moment, he just searched her face, a mixture of wariness and resentment evident in his features, until at last he blinked as if distracted and lowered his eyes to the Tiramisu. A most promising shift in action.

"Very well," he consented, and set his book aside.

She smiled at her triumph and offered him a plastic fork. He took it without brushing her fingers and then took the Tiramisu in hand, only to set it on the bench beside him.

She had never watched Vincent eat before, so she peered up at him through her hair while she dug in with her fork. He undid the first two buckles of his collar and folded it down against his shoulders with his claw, offering her a lovely view of his perfectly shaped lips at last. Raptly, she gazed at him as he broke off a piece of the dessert with his fork and brought it just short of his lips. She nearly dropped the fork as she observed his open mouth with great interest, but came to her senses so she could coordinate her bite with his.

For a moment, they chewed quietly, and then their gazes collided. After she swallowed the piece, she smiled a little at the blank expression on his face when he finished his bite with an audible gulp.

Then he looked down at the dessert in his hand, to poke at it indifferently with his fork.

"This absolutely sucks, doesn't it?" Tifa said candidly, frowning in displeasure at the heavy, buttery aftertaste that wouldn't go away. And those ladyfingers had been gross and too soggy, like amorphous blobs that might jump out of the container and attack her.

"One might put it that way," Vincent replied cryptically, his lips curling slightly in derision. Promptly after, he tossed his piece into the trashcan next to him in a more clear-cut reply.

Then he picked up his book and continued where he left off, as though nothing happened.

She looked down at her still-gargantuan piece of Tiramisu in despair. What was up with that? Tiramisu was supposed to taste like heaven, damn it! She wondered why the place was so crowded even though its Tiramisu sucked so horribly. Her conclusion: The customers must have sucked too. And all that arguing about it earlier with Valentine was for nothing… Sure, it might have been fun at the time, but now she didn't have a good memory with him to associate with this day, and that inexplicably bugged the hell out of her.

She sighed heavily as she sculpted a map of Wutai with her fork, while her silent companion turned pages every minute or so. Frustrated, she demolished her map immediately after she constructed it, no offense to the real Wutai intended. She wasn't much of an artist anyway.

And… unquestionably, she wasn't really hungry anymore. With a quiet sigh, she stood up to toss her mangled piece into the trash, and then collapsed on the bench once again.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her waist as if to prevent her stomach from churning at the suck-tacular bite of Tiramisu she just fed it. Vincent probably wouldn't eat anything she gave him now. It had been a stupid idea anyway… making the guy eat when he didn't want a pick-me-up anyway.

"I'm sorry it sucked, Vincent," she mumbled sincerely after a moment.

"You didn't make it," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but I made you eat it…"

He didn't say anything to that, so she looked over at him, only to focus on the book in his hand with newfound curiosity. She wondered just what that damn book was about, and if it really centered on coffee. And if that was the case… then Vincent Valentine had a pretty stupid taste in books, and she would never sit next to him again because she didn't want to read over his shoulder to see a book about a drink she didn't care for. Now if it were hot chocolate, then that would be another story. She'd ask him to read to her…

Might as well get straight to the point, instead of letting thoughts ferment in her crazy head.

"So… Vincent… is that book about… coffee…?" Her voice sounded a little too loud to her ears, so she made a mental note to be a little quieter next time.

"Hmm… Not principally." His smooth, quiet voice made hers sound even more boisterous by contrast.

Then, could it be about…? Well, it was worth a shot.

"Is it about… delirium?"

"…Yes…"

"Well, at least the title's somewhat honest."

"I wouldn't recommend the book," he remarked after a moment.

She lifted her eyes to his face at that in bewilderment. "Then… why are you still reading it?"

"I need something to do…"

…Other than argue with Tifa Lockheart about silly stuff. _Oh, I get it now._ Heaven forbid they actually had a normal conversation… which was what they were… sort of having… just now… but not really. But if he needed something to do, he could've picked a different book. One with a romantic title and maybe a handsome guy on the cover. Not something about delirium. But Vincent probably didn't read romance novels…

Without another word, she frowned at the hopelessness of it all and leaned forward with her chin in her hands so she could study her filthy boots.

A few more minutes passed as she stared at those boots before a slow, steady movement caught her eye just to the right of one boot. She shifted her curious wine-tinted gaze to observe a little bug making its way across the ground. Unfortunately, the bug didn't execute any cool flips or anything extraordinary of that nature. It just learned its way around, looking very… confused. Another bug joined it, and they became puzzled together.

It didn't take too long for Tifa to lose interest in the behavior of local bugs. Her eyes went out of focus, her eyelashes slipped down halfway, and a great yawn overtook her mouth.

Vincent turned another page, and surprised her by breaking the silence. "It would seem that you need a nap… or a—what did you call it earlier?"

"Er… a pick-me-up?"

"Yes."

She wasn't really sleepy, but she was drained by her boredom.

"I guess I do need one… but… well, I'm not eating that Tiramisu again." And she doubted that Valentine would give her a sudden energy boost with entertainment of any sort. Vincent juggling? Not likely.

"Of course not… I propose something more exhilarating..."

Vincent had an _exhilarating_ proposition? That was news to her, and she found herself a tad unconvinced, mainly because he didn't sound too elated when he told her so. Intrigued, her eyebrows flew up in shock and she sat up straight to inspect his face.

"You do?" she asked carefully.

He nodded and tucked his book away somewhere in his cloak. Then he rose from the bench and turned toward her, causing her to tilt her head back to peer up at him a bit worriedly, especially as she didn't expect him to answer her so directly… and yet, she still had no idea what he planned to tell her.

She then noted a peculiar look in his eyes that she'd never seen before. With something warm in what she could see of those darkening crimson irises. And maybe something a little… hungry… or maybe not that… exactly… It was something purposeful, at least...

She stared in shock at his face, and at the same time she tried to figure out just what was going on inside his head.

Deep red orbs darted down to her lips, before settling on her burgundy eyes once more… his jaw muscles twitching…

Wait a minute… Did Vincent Valentine want to—? Nah… He couldn't have… but then… How was she supposed to tell? He just stood still with that predatory look in his eyes. Otherwise, his face didn't show any emotion…

And—

There, again, his eyes slid down to her lips.

Since when did Vincent want anything to do with her lips? Maybe he planned to shut her up somehow, to detract her from her taxing questions and somewhat talkative behavior. His fault for being so quiet. If he talked more, she wouldn't have to feel the need to break the silence.

So… just how… would he shut her up…?

"Vincent…?" She spoke his name hesitantly, immediately causing him to shift his smoldering gaze to her round, wondering eyes yet again.

She then blinked in surprise at the realization that suddenly walloped her in the head due to his intense stare, only to let out a yelp of protest when he suddenly bent at the waist to pick her up and hoist her over his shoulder without so much as a by-your-leave. Blushing, she gaped in stupefaction at the cape billowing under her while he turned away from the bench to carry her off.

Soon after, she came to her senses just enough to acknowledge the fact that the ex-Turk was taking her somewhere without her permission…

She hit his back lightly with her fists and kicked her legs against his hold. "Vincent Valentine, put me down! Wherever we're going, I can walk!"

"I'm afraid I'm disinclined to agree with you on that score, Tifa Lockheart," he calmly replied. "The situation specifically called for a pick-me-up…"

She frowned at his back as she listened to him, and eventually stopped flailing about.

She wondered if anyone in town was paying attention. If they were watching, they probably didn't know whether to call the authorities to help her out, or to just let the man go about his business. An intimidating figure, he walked with such unshakable determination, but the woman he transported didn't try to resist him much more…

…Because she was too damn curious to see where Vincent Valentine would take her. Then again… maybe he would take revenge on her for feeding him that horrible dessert after all, and he would take her somewhere isolated where he could shoot her…

But hopefully he had other things in mind. Like letting her undo the rest of the buckles on his cloak so he wouldn't be tempted to hide his face again, or maybe just letting her play with his wild black hair for awhile…

Forget Tiramisu; she certainly felt energized now, if her quickening heartbeat and incessantly flushed cheeks were any indication.

"Um… Vincent?" she asked timidly. She needed clarification, after all. But if he was going to shoot her, Tifa hoped that he'd be quick about it. And if he let her play with his hair, she hoped they would have the entire afternoon—and the evening too. He had a lot of hair, after all…

"Yes, Tifa?" His thumb moved against the back of her thigh lightly, making her blush a deeper red, if possible. And she had to suppress a giggle, because he tickled her, however unintentionally it seemed. She didn't really have to ask her question after that subtle gesture, but once again, she needed to talk to keep herself sane; Vincent probably wouldn't talk much on their little excursion otherwise.

"Where are we going?" she asked softly. She was simply curious now, rather than worried.

"I've not fully decided, but you're not permitted to see anyone else for the rest of the day."

_Way to be assertive, Valentine… Somewhat, anyway._

"So… what you're saying is… that I'm booked." She wondered where all this bossiness of his came from while she compulsively took a fistful of his scarlet cape in her hand, as he adjusted his grip on her legs.

"Correct."

No joke. Valentine's behavior was just as contrary as she thought. And unpredictable too, it turned out. Only moments ago, he'd been reading without a care in the world for her, scarcely enduring her and her pressing questions—pressing for him, anyway. And he'd never touched her before either. In fact, she had been almost positive that Vincent Valentine didn't like contact one bit. And now, he seemed to have changed his mind about one or two of those tendencies of his, because he'd taken quite a few liberties with her, what with his literal 'pick-me-up' and all…

…And Tifa suspected that he would probably take a few more liberties, but she couldn't find a reason within herself to complain.

* * *

A/N: I'll leave the rest of their adventures to your imagination… And I'll leave other things to your imagination as well, like… er… what town are they in again? (scratches head in Cloud-like manner) Who am I? Wasn't I a Soldier? NOOOOOOOO!

Moving right along… _The Coffee of Delirium_ is a book from a dream had I recently, and I think I have Sztorm's Sandman/FF7 fic to blame for the 'delirium' part of the title in the dream. Thanks a bunch. :D Quinlan Vos (my hero) was also in that dream, with his handy lightsaber and angry, face-painted self, but he doesn't fit with Vincent and Tifa… Oh well.

Hmmm... Chapter 7 or 8 of JAFR will probably have pie in it. I'm hopeless. And always hungry whenever I write, it turns out… but I needed to write a Tiramisu story. I mean, it's in my _name_…

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